


The Love That Was More Strong Than Any Other Love Had Ever Been

by spacemonkey



Category: Dark Knight (2008)
Genre: Crack, Deliberate Badfic, M/M, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-15 12:42:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5785732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacemonkey/pseuds/spacemonkey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joker was morose. He sat in a a chair in the middle of a room. The room was large. The chair was not. But it was black, like his mood. He waited.</p><p>Written in 2008, deliberate bad!fic</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Love That Was More Strong Than Any Other Love Had Ever Been

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this not long after the movie came out, when I went searching for twisted, dark Batman/Joker fic and instead found fics where they settled down and had kids together. I got frustrated and then I decided to join in, and write something shit. It's terrible and I'm sorry

Joker was morose. The second hand ticked by as he waited. He sat in a a chair in the middle of a room. The room was large. The chair was not. But it was black, like his mood.

He'd been waiting for two days now, not moving, not sleeping, just waiting for...

For what? The Dark Knight? HIS Dark Knight? His true love? Joker knew it to be true, and he laughed quickly, the laugh turning into a choked sob. He loved, more than people could ever know. His Batman. His beautiful, tempestuous Batman. 

Joker had been waiting for two days now, waiting for the touch that was so familiar, and he wondered if that touch was ever going to come. 

"Surely he would have called by now. Just one phone call," Joker wondered out loud. "Just want my phone call." He twirled a pencil in his hand. The pencil was blunt, blood covered from a magic trick. But he had given up that life, a life of crime, a life of anarchy, for Batman. It hadn't been a life he wanted to live, anyway. The life of righteousness, the life of true love, was the life he wanted to live now. With Batman. 

If he ever called. 

Joker waited for two more days, until he could wait no more. He turned on his widescreen television, marvelling at the high quality and the sound system. Coincidentally, the news was on. They were talking about Batman. 

"-hasn't been seen for a week now, probably dead," the newsman reported without emotion.

Joker was filled with emotion. "Dead? DEAD?" He hung his head in sorrow, a single tear leaking out of his eye and streaking his makeup. A single tear, because it was all he could show. Inside, he was screaming. Crying, sobbing, choking on the pain he felt inside, the pain at losing his one true love. The second hand ticked by as he stood there, masking his pain like Batman masked his identity. His pain was painful, and Joker turned off the television with a sorrow filled laugh. 

"He promised eternity," Joker whispered. He suddenly knew what he had to do. "And eternity we'll still have." He walked over to the cupboard and took out a shiny knife. He'd always preferred knives, back in the life he had never wanted to live in the first place, because murder was wrong. It drew out the pain, showed him who his victims really were, and that was exactly what he had to do to himself. He had to suffer, the way his Batman probably suffered, and see if he was man enough for his one true love.

"I'm coming, Batman," Joker said and drove the knife into his stomach. The pain hurt, but not as much as losing his one true love, and Joker fell to the floor. He laughed for a while, then fell silent as he waited to die.

"Joker, I'm home," Batman called, hanging up his cape as he stepped inside. But it was too late. The door slammed shut behind him, not unlike the way his emotions slammed open as he spotted Joker on the ground. "Joker!"

Batman rushed to Joker's side, tears of angst falling down his mask, and he pulled his love close to him. "Joker!" he exclaimed uselessly, and Joker smiled sadly at him, his scars twisting up in a way that was angelic and beautiful. Batman had never loved him more, and he knew he would never love again.

Joker was dying. This was obvious to Batman, as obvious as their love had been. The Dark Knight was broken. 

"I am Bruce Wayne," Batman said.

They stared into each other’s eyes for a long while, the love that they shared obviously shining through between long blinks. Blinks that stretched out for Joker with each blink, as each blink he took might just be his last blink. They both knew this. Treasured the blinks as Batman's admission hung heavy in the air.

"I knew it," Joker cackled, even though he hadn't. Then he blinked again and it lasted forever.

"No," Batman whispered, running a hand through Joker's green locks. "No. NO. NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" he screamed to the heavens, arms stretched out and face twisted into a devastated scowl. All that he had lived for, gone. ALL that he could possibly live for, dead in his arms. It was worse than watching his parents bleed to death, and his chest ached with the loss. He had nothing to live for. Nothing except revenge. "MY JOKER. I WILL AVENGE YOU!"


End file.
